


Gold Roses

by lucifersfavoritechild



Series: Ironstrange Fics [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Endgame IronStrange, Happy Ending, He didn't mean to fall in love but it works out, M/M, Royalty AU, Seduction, Smut, accidental feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-06-25 19:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifersfavoritechild/pseuds/lucifersfavoritechild
Summary: Royalty AU. Prince Stephen Strange, on the run after his home and kingdom is taken over, seeks shelter with the king Tony Stark.





	1. Chapter 1

Stephen usually enjoyed horseback riding. It was something he’d been doing since he was a child. It felt almost like flying did when he let the horse run as fast as it willed, the sun beating down on him and the wind making his eyes water. It was almost as natural to him as magic.

But then, most of the time he wasn’t riding through a rainstorm while fleeing for his life.

He looked at Wong under his hood, water dripping down his hair. “When do you think we’ll be in the Ironlands?”

Wong raised a brow at him, seeming annoyed, but not surprised. “If you actually keep moving and stop wasting time?” He shrugged. “Before dusk. But it will take longer than that to reach the palace.”

Stephen sighed, brushing away the water from his face. “Great.” They’d been riding for almost three days straight, avoiding the roads whenever they could, and sticking instead to the forests that blanketed the western border. They likely would have arrived already if they had been able to actually travel along the established paths, but that would leave them too exposed to Kaecilius’s men.

“At least we’ll sleep in a bed tonight,” Mordo pointed out, his voice low. He was probably the most paranoid of the group, frequently looking around for any enemies that might attack them, his fingers wrapped tightly around the reins. “Better than huddled together on the forest floor.”

Stephen forced a chuckle. “You’re not wrong.” The thought of a warm bath after days of dirt and grime was the only thing keeping him from stopping their party for a year-long break.

Mordo smiled, but it didn’t last. He looked down at the path in front of him for a few minutes, considering, before he said, “My prince—”

“Oh no,” Stephen sighed, shaking his head lightly. “‘My prince’. You’re going there.”

“I’m afraid so. Stephen, please know that I am no less dedicated to our home than you, and I want nothing more than to restore your sister to her throne.”

“But?”

“ _But_ , I wonder if you have thought this through. I think that we should consider other options while we recuperate in the Ironlands.” He was still looking around the trees, but his eyes kept coming back to Stephen.

Stephen pretended to consider this. “Alright. And what ‘options’ have you thought of, if I might ask?”

Mordo was silent.

Stephen nodded, his point made. “Karl, will I be able to take back my home without an army?”

Slowly, Mordo shook his head. “No.”

“And is Anthony Stark likely to just . . . _lend us_ one out of the goodness of his heart?”

“Probably not,” Wong deadpanned, not looking at either of them.

Mordo scowled at him, but Stephen just nodded before smiling at Mordo. “Well then, I will do whatever is necessary to secure his aid.”

“Yes,” Mordo said through gritted teeth, “but what makes you think that seducing him is the way to do that?”

Stephen shrugged. “It’s always best to go with what you know.”

* * *

The Starks had a strange castle.

A technological marvel, it was the only one Stephen had ever seen made entirely of steel, painted bronze so that the sunlight shone off it. The last king, Howard Stark, had started plans for the new palace, but it was Anthony Stark who saw it made.

 _Anthony._ Stephen had met the man before, but only ever for a few moments, and he’d never properly spoken to him. But he was not known to be a cruel man, and he had no reason to hate Stephen or his family. So, when Stephen kneeled before him and his court, his friends at his side, he didn’t doubt that the king would not turn them away.

Anthony listened intently as Stephen explained their situation. “I’m sorry to hear what happened to you and your sister. Kaecilius is a cruel man.” The king was sitting in his throne on a dais before him, his wife Virginia “Pepper” Stark standing to his left and their two sons, Peter and Harley, to his right.

“I thank you for your sympathy, your majesty,” Stephen said. “The past week has been . . . difficult, to say the least.”

“Well, hopefully you will find your time here more peaceful.”

Stephen smiled, bowing his head in acknowledgement. “You’re too kind. And I hate to bring our problems to your doorstep, as you have done nothing to deserve it, but I fear that for my own sake, as well as the safety of my companions, that I must ask that we remain in your home for the time being.” Stephen did not doubt that the king would grant his request; he had no reason to favor someone who had already shown himself willing to attack one royal. Even if Anthony _did_ consider Stephen a threat, having them close by and under his control was the smartest thing he could do.

As expected, Anthony said, “You are welcome to stay here as long as necessary. Consider yourself and your companions to be under my and my family’s personal protection.”

Stephen resisted the urge to openly smile, not raising his head. “I am in your debt, your majesty.”

“It's my pleasure.” _It will be._ “One of my servants will show you and your men to your rooms. You should get some rest. You've had a hard journey.”

Stephen nodded, playing up his tiredness, and allowed himself to be lead away from the throne room.

Their rooms were sparse, but respectable, connected by a series of corridors that would make meeting easy. As much as an unexpected guest could wish for. Stephen requested that a bath be drawn, eager to rid himself of the sweat and dirt of his journey. He hissed as he sunk into the steaming water, feeling his muscles cry out in relief. Soon afterwards, another servant brought some clothes for him to wear, setting them on a table next to the tub. They were plain, and made in the style of the Ironlands — tight pants,long sleeves, high neck, and a row of buttons down the chest — rather than the layered robes of the Magicklands, but they were serviceable, and in the blue and silver of his family. Stephen thanked the servant who brought them, but before he could send him on his way, the young man said, “His majesty the King has invited you to dine with him and his family tonight.”

Stephen smiled. _Perfect._ “Please tell his majesty that I humbly accept his offer.” He waited until he heard the door shut before he used his magic to summon a sheet of paper and a pencil, writing, _Come and see me in twenty minutes._ The paper vanished in a burst of flames.

He was trying to fix his damp hair, dressed in the fresh clothes and a pair of clean boots, when Wong and Mordo arrived.

Wong immediately seemed irritated. “Why make us wait so long when there is important work to be done?”

Stephen shrugged. “I was taking a bath.” As they spoke, he silently used his magic to check around the rooms for spies or anyone else who might be eavesdropping on them. There was no one.  

Wong rolled his eyes, while Mordo seemed merely resigned. “You asked for us?”

Stephen looked at himself in a mirror, using a simple spell to adjust the clothes to fit him properly. “The king has invited me to have dinner with him and his family.”

“And not us? How rude of him,” Wong said, somewhere between offended and amused.

“How awful of him,” Stephen said sarcastically, finally satisfied with his appearance. “During dinner, I want you two to talk amongst the court. See what you can find out about this king and any past or current lovers he has.” Most of what he knew about the king was rumors and second or third hand accounts. Hopefully information from his own home would be more accurate. And Wong and Mordo were subtle enough that he had no doubt they would be able to get the information they wanted without giving away their purpose.

“This had better be the weirdest thing we ever have to do for you,” Wong said. Stephen didn’t mind. He knew that his friend took his job seriously.

The prince checked the mirror once more. “Honestly, the things we do for family.”

* * *

The king was a handsome man.

Stephen hadn’t thought about it before, too busy concentrating on other things, but he did now. Anthony had tanned skin, rich brown hair, and dark eyes. He was short than the prince, but well-built beneath his clothes, and the red and gold of his family suited him well. Stephen found it easy to imagine them together.

They were in a private room, away from the grander dining hall that was used for feasts and celebrations. The king sat at the head of the small oak table, his wife at his side, looking regal in a deep blue dress, her red hair in a braided bun.

There was another man sitting immediately to Tony’s right, expressionless as he looked down at the table. He was muscular, handsome, and blonde, all capped off with clean-cut features and blue eyes. Stephen had never met the man, or even heard of him, but he had an idea of what he might be. In the Ironlands, it was common for royals to take an official lover, typically someone who was of the same sex or infertile to ensure that no bastards tried to kill of their family's rightful heirs (which apparently used to be a surprisingly large problem of the Stark family). He knew that Queen Virginia had one, a lady of the court who was away at the moment.

Stephen sat at the end of the table, looking curiously at the two empty seats. “Your majesty, if I might ask, where are your sons?”

“They usually prefer to eat in the dining hall, but we prefer something more private.” The king smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And please, call me Tony.”

Stephen returned the king’s smile with a far more natural one of his own. “Tony, I can’t thank you enough for your generosity. And I would love to meet your children at a later time.” He turned his attention to the queen. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, my queen.”

Virginia smiled with sharp, seeing eyes. “I’ve been remiss. I should have spoken to you earlier.”

“It’s not a problem, your majesty,” Stephen said, well aware of the fact that whatever Tony had done, the queen had not given him permission to refer to her by anything else. “You must be a very busy woman. I’m honored to even see you now.”

Flattery was second nature to nobility, and the queen saw right through it, though she seemed only amused. “You flatter me. And if I may call you Stephen, then you may certainly call me Pepper.”

“I can think of nothing I would like more.”

Pepper’s lips twitched up in a half-smile.

Finally, Stephen looked to the blonde man last, wondering if he was a nobleman. He didn’t seem it; his hands were rougher than they should have been if that was the case, and his posture was off. If Stephen had to guess, he was a soldier once, though years at court seemed to have softened him somewhat. “And may I ask who you are?”

The man gave him a strained smile. “Steve Rogers.” He didn’t speak further, giving no information about himself. Both he and Tony seemed uncomfortable, and Pepper was ignoring their exchange entirely.

Stephen was only too happy to ignore Steve as well, turning the conversation one way and the next while they ate, careful to pay equal attention to Tony and his wife and only occasionally involving Rogers. This seemed to please everyone best, but especially Tony, who barely even looked at the other man.

Stephen sipped at his wine, careful not to drink too much, but not wanting to offend the royal couple or make them suspicious. Tony was coming down from laughing about a story about his sons and this last (now retired) tutor when Stephen said, “You know, your kingdom is so beautiful, I’m sad that I’ve seen so little of it.”

Without thinking, Tony said, “If you like, I can give you a tour of the palace tomorrow.”

Pepper looked at him, but they both seemed to realize that it was too late to take the offer back. She looked at Stephen with a pleasant smile. “I think you would especially like the Metal Gardens, Stephen. They are, in my opinion, the most beautiful thing in the Ironlands.”

“I would love to see them, if Tony will show me.” He looked at the king expectantly.

Tony smiled. His eyes were bright. “I’d love to.”

* * *

Mordo and Wong sat with Stephen in his sitting room. To anyone watching, it would seem like they were simply reading from the few books that they’d managed to smuggle out of their home before leaving. But Stephen was certain now that _someone_ was listening to them, be it the king’s men or someone else’s, so they spoke silently inside their heads. _What did you learn?_ Stephen asked, thumbing through his book. It made for an interesting read, filled with enough dark and powerful spells to be worth the risk of being captured if it meant keeping it out of Kaecilius’s hands.

 _Steve Rogers is the king’s official lover, and has been for ten years now_ , Wong explained. _He has no other. But they had something of a falling out last year. By all accounts, their relationship has yet to recover._

 _Really?_ Stephen asked, not allowing the surprise to reach his face. _Do you know what happened between them?_

 _Only bits and pieces_ , Mordo told him. _There was a man, a soldier friend of Rogers, who was arrested for treason. Something to do with Anthony’s parents. I could not find out what he did without arousing suspicion. But I do know that Rogers convinced Anthony to pardon the man, and he was allowed to live in exile instead of dying, but the king was angry about it._

 _Still is, apparently_ , Wong snarked.

Stephen only smiled. _Well, that’s good news for us. Is there anything else?_

_Now that we know yet._

_Then we have nothing else to discuss for the night. For tomorrow, I want you to try to find out more about Steve Rogers — and the rest of the king’s family, for that matter._ Stephen rose, yawning tiredly. “It’s late. I have to rise early tomorrow to meet the king. Sleep well.”

His friends left, and Stephen lay down to sleep, smiling as he thought of the king and Donna, and went to sleep ready to face the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

The Metal Gardens were in fact the _only_ gardens to be found at the palace. There were plenty of decorations, many of them machines meant to awe and delight, but no flowers. No Stark ruler for several generations had seen the point of wasting time and resources on plants.

“But this was a wedding gift to Pepper,” Tony explained to the prince, who was walking beside him with a curious look as Tony explained the history of the gardens. “She missed the flowers of her homeland, so I thought she might like it if she had a garden of her own.” A new garden, one that marked her as a _Stark_ , first and foremost.

Pepper was never as fond of them as he hoped.

“And you designed it all yourself?” the prince asked, not noticing Tony’s change in mood, but sounding so genuinely fascinated that Tony couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He nodded.

Stephen grinned. “They’re beautiful.” He looked around at the metal plants surrounding them. The section they were in had twisting gold plants with bright red buds, looking as though they were just _waiting_ to burst.

Tony couldn’t stop a small smile from forming. “Well, they’re more than just simple decorations. They go through their own cycle, and change throughout the year, growing, budding, blooming.”

If it was possible, Stephen looked even more awe-inspired than before. “Can I have one?”

Tony hesitated a moment. But he knew that Pepper wouldn’t mind, and even if she did he could always make more. And Stephen was looking at him so earnestly, like he could think of nothing better in the world than having one of the flowers Tony had made. “Of course.”

Tony watched with an amused grin as Stephen carefully selected a red-and-gold rose, holding it delicately in his hand. The prince spun back around on his heel, smiling slyly as he faced Tony again. The king’s own amusement turned to apprehension as the metal began to twist in Stephen’s hands, the stem growing longer and sprouting new buds as Stephen held it up, his hands glowing orange.

After a few moments, Stephen leaned back in satisfaction, holding up his prize. The rose had been reformed into a branching golden circlet, decorated with the red buds that seemed to shine under the sunlight. “Do you like it?”

Tony looked from the crown to the prince, uncertain. “It’s . . . very impressive.”

Stephen smiled and held the circlet out to him. “Will you put it on for me? To make sure it looks right?”

Tony nodded slowly. “Alright.” He took the crown gently in his hands. Stephen lowered his head, making him shorter than the king for the time being. It felt oddly intimate as Tony carefully set the crown down on the prince’s dark hair before drawing his hands away.

Stephen rose back up when he felt the king move his hands, and he reached out suddenly, gripping his wrists. Tony stared at him, noticing for the first time that his eyes weren't simply blue, like he’d assumed but earlier, but rather an odd mixture of blue, green, and gray, mixing together to form a color like seafoam.

Tony only realized he was staring when Stephen spoke. “Tony . . .” His voice was quieter, only a step above breathless. Then the prince let go of his wrists, leaning back slightly. “If it pleases you, I would like to see more of your inventions.”

Tony snapped back to attention, backing away quickly from Stephen, who looked only vaguely amused by this. “I think I have time after lunch,” Tony said, realizing too late that he could have just said no. “But we should probably return to the palace.”

“Of course,” Stephen said, not seeming to realize Tony’s conflicted emotions. Tony told himself it was nothing — of course Stephen would want to see his work. It was what his family was known for. Their weapons were what allowed them to exist side-by-side with the sorcerers without being conquered like those before them. Curiosity was natural.

But then the prince turned around and began to walk back to the steel palace, the gold circlet glinting in his hair, and Tony found it hard to think of anything else.

* * *

“Why didn’t you do anything then?” Mordo asked while they sat outside. The man was impatient to return home, and no less paranoid now that they were in a palace rather than the woods of the Magicklands, looking around every few minutes to see if anyone was near. Wong was ignoring them entirely.

“Mordo,” Stephen sighed, lying on his back and looking up at the sky, “you know _nothing_ of seduction.”

Wong wasn’t facing them, but Stephen just _knew_ he rolled his eyes.

Stephen casually picked at a bowl of fruit, still wearing his circlet. “If I come on too strong too quickly, I’ll only scare him off. I need to _build_ to that.”

“You work _so hard_ ,” Wong drawled.

“Thank you for your appreciation.” He popped a cleaved a strawberry into his mouth, still staring up at the clouds. “Have you learned anything new about Rogers?”

“His friend was Bucky Barnes,” Mordo said, still looking around, one hand near the knife relic at his belt. “I had to do some digging, but I found out why he was arrested.”

Stephen looked over at him. “Well? Don’t hold us in suspense.”

Mordo sighed, clearly wondering why he even put up with his friend. “According to the records I found, he was arrested for treason after it was found out that he was involved in the assassination of Stark’s parents, before Rogers even met him.”

Stephen sat up in surprise, staring at his friend. “Are you serious?”

Mordo nodded.

Stephen leaned in closer, eyes sparking. “Do you know why he did it?”

This time, Wong responded. “There were no official reports on the _why_. Or at least, not anymore. But there is a great deal of gossip. Some say it was because of political or money reasons, others that he was under a spell. No one actually seems to know for certain. But the result remains the same. Barnes is gone, and Rogers has lost much of the favor he once held with the king. He’s all but left the court, never goes to festivals or parties. And he’s barely even seen with Stark anymore. Even the princes, who used to worship the ground he walked on, have turned their backs on him. The queen has tried to have him sent away several times, but Stark is insistent that he stays, though it's clear to everyone that he can hardly stand to be around him. Anthony is a very loyal man, apparently.”

Stephen and Mordo stared at Wong, who was calmly stealing from Stephen’s fruit bowl. “How did you find all of that out just by talking to people?”

“I have a very trustworthy face.” He checked the sun. “You should get ready to meet Stark. He doesn’t eat for long.”

Stephen didn’t bother to ask how he knew that. He was too busy thinking. “I think I’m going to do something else.”

* * *

“Pepper, have you seen Stephen?”

His wife looked up at him from her desk where she was looking over the documents sent to her by their advisers, annoyed by the interruption. “When would I have seen him? I’ve been working since breakfast.”

“I don’t know,” Tony said, more than a little annoyed. “We were supposed to meet now, but no one can tell me where he is.”

Pepper leaned back in her chair with a sigh, seeming supremely unimpressed. “Did you tell him where to meet you?”

A beat passed. “No.” In hindsight, that might have been a good idea. “Nevermind, I’ll find him.”

Tony spent over twenty minutes searching the wing that the prince’s rooms were in, but couldn’t find him. He was beginning to grow irritated when he heard familiar laughter coming from a nearby room.

 _Peter?_ Confused, Tony jogged to the room, throwing the door open.

Immediately, the laughter stopped as several people turned to look at him — Peter, Harley, and Stephen.

The prince reacted first, smiling as he immediately rose to his feet. “My king, I didn't think I would see you so soon.”

Tony nodded his acknowledgment, edging into the room. Peter and Harley were sitting on the floor across from where Stephen had been, their legs crossed. Another man, one of Stephen’s friends that had escaped with him, was sitting in a corner, his nose in a book, not even raising his head when Tony entered. Around the room, crystalline blue-and-green butterflies floated in contentment. “What’s going on in here?”

Stephen gestured to the boys. “I happened to run into your sons while I was wandering the castle, and they asked if I could show them a few spells. Nothing dangerous, of course, I knew you wouldn’t approve of that.”

“No, it’s . . . it’s fine. I was just looking for you.”

Stephen frowned for a moment before his eyes widened slightly. “Right, we were supposed to meet after lunch. I’m so sorry, Tony, I must have lost track of time.”

“It’s alright, really,” Tony assured him, his annoyance melting away.

“I’d like to make it up to you.” His eyes were so _earnest_ all the time. It made it hard for Tony to say no to him.

Before he could respond, Harley shot up excitedly. “Stephen, why don’t you show dad some of your magic?”

Peter nodded eagerly in agreement. “That would be great, Mister— Prince—”

“Really, Peter,” Stephen said with an amused look. “Stephen is just fine. However, I did in fact show your father a bit of magic earlier,” he said suggestively, lightly touching his crown. Then he looked at Tony with a small smile. “But certainly if the king would like for me to show him some more . . .” he trailed off, still looking at Tony.

By then Peter and Harley were looking at him expectantly, and even Stephen’s friend had torn himself away from his book to watch them, though he seemed only mildly curious. Finally, Tony said, “I guess it can’t hurt.” Which was a lie. Tony was well aware of the fact that Stephen could probably kill him in an instant if he wanted to. But that would mean being forced to leave the country, which would put him in danger of Kaecilius coming after him — and Kaecilius was every bit of capable of magic as him.

Regardless, it felt weird to sit on the floor across from Stephen. Tony wasn’t used to being so . . . _vulnerable_ in front of another person, never mind someone who was practically a stranger. “What exactly are you planning on doing?”

Stephen seemed almost _serene_ as he took Tony’s hands in his, arranging it so that their palms were pressed together. “This is a very simple spell used by people like guards and close friends to keep an eye on another’s physical and mental wellbeing.” He paused, then added, “It’s what allowed us to escape when Kaecilius came for me. One of my sister’s guards was able to warn us.” He didn’t elaborate. Tony didn’t ask. “Close your eyes.”

Tony did so, shifting uncomfortably. He was about to pull his hands back when he felt the spell take form— a nudging sensation in his mind. A temporary bond connecting him to Stephen. He could feel what he did in that moment: amusement, at Tony and his children; relief that he was somewhere safe; fear for his sister and his people; and something that was harder for him to grasp, something warm and . . . happy.

Then Stephen pulled his hands away, letting the connection snap like a rope that had been pulled too tight. “I think that’s enough for the day.”

It was difficult to keep from reeling backwards. Tony felt his hands curl into fists as he struggled to speak. “When you explained the spell . . . I thought . . .”

“That it would be the other way around?” Stephen asked, noticeably more composed than him.

“ _Yes_.”

Stephen shrugged casually, leaning back on his hands. “Well, if it was the other way around, you wouldn’t even feel anything. That wouldn’t really have suited our . . . purposes.”

Tony stared at him for a while, his feelings a swirling mess, before Peter broke the silence. “Can you teach me how to do that?” he asked hopefully.

Harley looked over at his father hopefully. “Dad, can Stephen teach us magic?”

Tony almost sighed in relief, glad to have the subject redirected. “Boys, the Prince is a very important man, not your personal tutor—”

“Nonsense,” Stephen said. “I’d be happy to show them some things, as long as I’m here.”

All three Starks turned to look at him — Tony with surprise, Peter and Harley with eagerness. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. As it is, I don’t really have much to do besides speak to you. And I would love to spend more time with the children.” He smiled, as if something pleasant had just occurred to him. “Although you _do_ still owe me a tour of your inventions.”

Tony had almost forgotten about that entirely, too caught up in everything else that had happened. “I don’t think I have time today, I’m supposed to be working on . . . something.” Which was true, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t remember it just that moment.

Stephen didn’t seem to mind, as he simply said, “Later, then.”

“Tomorrow, maybe,” Tony said, wondering why he couldn’t just leave it at what Stephen had said. “I’ll see you . . . tomorrow.”

The prince grinned. “I can’t wait.”

* * *

Afterwards, when they were alone, Mordo asked, “Did you actually let him . . .” He waved his hand around, trying to find the right words.

The corner of Stephen’s mouth twitched up in amusement. “Feel me?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Mordo chided, cheeks flushing.

Ignoring his request, Stephen shrugged. “Not entirely. But enough.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with the prince,” Steve said evenly, not looking up from his dinner.

Tony glanced at him, trying to shrug it off. “Is there a problem with that?”

“No. No. He’s very intelligent. Charming. And the children like him.”

Tony nodded slowly, shoulders tensing. “Yes . . .”

“And very handsome.”

 _There it is._ Tony sighed irritably. “Steve, there’s nothing going on between—”

“I know,” he said in a tone that clearly implied otherwise. “I’m just curious.”

“There’s nothing to be curious about,” Tony snapped.

Steve frowned, but kept going. “What do you two talk about?”

 _We talk about any and everything they think of. He listens to me complain about politics to him, and gives me suggestions I would not have thought of. He watched me work and asks questions like you used to, and he understands when I ramble about machines and he shows me his magic in turn. He’s smart and funny and never hesitates to give me his ear._ “Not much. Random stuff, mostly.”

“Are you sure it’s not more than that?” Steve was looking down at the table, drawing his fork aimlessly around his plate, when he muttered, “You speak to him more than me.”

Tony resisted the urge to leave the room, instead setting down his glass to stare at the other man. “And why shouldn’t I?” he asked coldly. “He’s new and interesting and he makes me laugh. That’s more than I can say for you these days.”

Steve flinched.

“Why did you come here, Steve? We haven’t eaten together in weeks.” Months would have been more accurate, but it was easier to ignore things if you didn’t say them out loud.

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to see you.”

“I don’t know why you’d even _want_ to see me if all you plan to do is ask me about Stephen.”

Steve raised his eyes, expressionless. “You’re not blind, Tony. You have to see what he’s trying to do.”

 _Well maybe I want him to do it._ Tony shook his head. _No._ He was not that petty, that hateful. For all their problems, he still believed that Steve deserved better than that, regardless of what everyone else said.

And if he chose to indulge in fantasies of the prince . . . well, Steve did not need to know that.

* * *

“Are you alright, Stephen?” Tony said, his tone hinting at worry.

Stephen pretended to snap back to attention, looking up at the king. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “I was just . . . thinking.”

They were sitting across from one another in Tony’s workshop, a large room filled with paper and metal and instruments and blueprints. Tony had been explaining a new design for a defense mechanism that he wanted to instill on the city walls, but now he was staring at Stephen.

“What are you thinking about?”

Stephen shrugged listlessly. “A lot of things.” Now he made himself stare at Tony’s worktable, putting too much effort into paying attention. Tony noticed. Tony noticed everything.

“Anything specific?”

Stephen’s eyes flicked to Tony back to the table. He was breathing slowly, trying to keep an eye on Tony’s body language, to remember his purpose. When he speaks, his voice is purposefully quiet, as though he doesn’t want to breathe the words into existence. “My sister.”

Tony stills, watching him. “Are . . . what about your sister?”

Stephen shrugged listlessly, his eyes drifting lower, necessary, but making it difficult to watch Tony. “If she’s okay, really. If they’re hurting her, torturing her, or if they plan to. If they’re going to kill her. If . . .” This time, his breath caught on its own. “If they already have.”

It was a secret fear of his, one he hadn’t spoken of, not even to Wong or Mordo. The thought that somewhere, his sister’s body was rotting, unburied and unmourned, with no way of even knowing for sure . . .

Tears pricked at his eyes. He started when Tony set a gentle hand on his shoulder, brown eyes full of sorrow and concern. “Stephen,” he breathed. When the prince didn’t respond, Tony moved closer, wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders in a hug. Stephen hesitated before burying his face into Tony’s shirt, taking comfort from his warmth. “If you need anything—”

“No,” Stephen said, shaking his head as he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. “Please, I don’t want to think about it anymore.” He pulled back from the hug slightly, one hand still clutching the sleeve of Tony’s shirt. “Just . . . just tell me about what you’re working on.”

Tony looked at him for a while, clearly wanting to say something. But then he nodded, returning to his worktable and pulling Stephen over with him.

* * *

Stephen sat at his desk, working on making a list of minor spells that he might teach Peter and Harley, while Wong and Mordo meditated to the side, their conversation a running commentary in his head. _Have you learned anything new?_

 _Not much_ , Wong told him. _Only that he came from a poor family of soldiers, and is only here through the king’s favor._ He seemed annoyed. _It's hard to get anything out of the court now. They don’t care to speak of Rogers and his friend anymore. All any of them want to talk about is you, how you hold the king's ear and strut around the palace wearing his gift._

Stephen resisted the urge to smirk. _I must be doing something right. What of the king, have they told you anything new about him?_

 _A servant said that he argued with Rogers about you last night_ , Mordo piped up, his expression so serene that even Stephen would not have realized he wasn’t meditating if he hadn’t known better. _Rogers thinks that Anthony spends too much time with you, but the king refused to argue with him about it for long._ He paused before adding, _There are some that think the king means to send Rogers away soon and replace him with you._

Stephen preened a bit at this, feeling smug. He had only spoken a few words to Steve Rogers, but even he was surprised for the hatred that he’s developed towards the man. He couldn’t help it. Steve had what he wanted, and had mistreated it. Thinking about it from that perspective, it was only right that he go. At least, that’s what he thought about it. _And what do you think about it?_ Stephen asked his friend.

_I think that you should speak to your prize about Rogers, and soon. We are moving too slowly. We ought to be home by now._

_Calm down, Karl_ , Wong said, seeming more mildly annoyed than anything else. _If it were up to you, we would move to quickly and be kicked out of the country altogether._

 _He’s right about one thing, though_ , Stephen said, looking over his list without taking it in. _I need to talk to Tony about Steve Rogers._

* * *

This time, Tony came to Stephen’s rooms for dinner. Laughter came easily as they spoke over wine, Stephen resting his head on his hand and watching Tony with a slight smile. The king spoke eagerly, waving his hands around as he switched quickly from topic to topic before laughing and calming for a moment. “You know, Stephen, I think that we should move you into different rooms if you’re going to stay here much longer. These aren’t fit for a prince.”

Stephen chuckled before leaning over to take Tony’s hand in his. “My king, I am happy wherever you want me.”

Toy sucked in a breath, staring at him, but Stephen sat back in his chair, as though he hadn’t noticed. “You know, I saw Steve today, sitting by a fountain outside. I tried to speak to him, but he ignored me. Do you know anything about that?” His tone was merely curious, his attention not even fully on Tony, but the king tensed immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’ll speak to him about it—”

“It’s not a _problem_ , Anthony,” Stephen insisted. “I was only wondering.”

After a moment, Tony nodded. “You’re right, I’m just . . . overreacting.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Steve meant nothing by it.”

Tony laughed harshly. “Oh, he meant something alright. He’s mad at me for something _he_ did, and now he’s taking it out on you.”

“Tony?”

The king continued. “Honestly, the way he goes _on_ and _on_ , you’d think I was the one who wronged him. After all that happened last year, you’d think he’d be the one trying to make things right between us, but instead he dumps it all on me. It used to be that just being _with him_ made me so happy. Now whenever we’re together, all I can think of is how much I want to leave, how much I’d rather—” He stopped suddenly, a blush running up his neck in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Anthony,” Stephen said, moving quickly so that he was kneeling in front of the king, hands on his thighs. “You’re my friend, and more dear to me than you know. If you have something you want to say, I will never stop you from saying it.” He brushed the hair away from Tony’s forehead, his hand coming to rest on Tony’s temple. They stared at each other, blue-green eyes meeting brown, but Stephen refused to move, though the tension was thick enough to touch. He wanted Tony to be the one to make the move, to close the gap between him, to press their mouths together and—

 _Oh._ Stephen’s eyes drifted shut when Tony finally moved, kissing him, holding Stephen to him by his hair. Without thinking, Stephen moaned, clutching the front of the king’s tunic. They moved together, almost reverent, shifting closer until Stephen was outright straddling Tony’s lap.

It took a long time for Tony to stop, to set his hands against Stephen’s chest and push him back. “We can’t, Stephen, we should stop.”

“No we shouldn’t, we should keep kissing.” Stephen moved to Tony’s neck, nipping down the column of his throat, thinking, _Honestly, Tony, you might be a genius, but you say the dumbest things sometimes._

“No, we can’t . . . Steve is,” he sucked out a breath, barely holding Stephen back now.

The prince sighed, knowing that if he were to push any further, it would only undo his hard-earned progress. Instead, he leaned back, settling his eyes on Tony’s. “It’s alright,” Stephen murmured, gently stroking the king’s hair. “Go to your room, sleep, and then come see me tomorrow. We’ll talk then.”

Slowly, still uncertain but clearly wanting to trust him, Tony nodded. “Okay. I’ll just . . .” They separated themselves, Tony flush and awkward, Stehen calm and graceful. Tony gestured to the door, scratching the back of his neck as he walked away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Stephen smiled. “I look forward to it.”


	4. Chapter 4

When Tony visited the next day, the sorcerers were discussing the fragments of Agamotto’s book from his final days. As soon as Stephen saw Tony standing in the doorway, he smiled and said to his companions, “Wong, Mordo, if you’ll leave me to speak to Anthony.”

They left without complaint, bowing their heads to the king. Wong started to make a rude gesture on his way out, but Mordo stopped him and pushed him into the hall. Stephen gestured to the pile of pillows that covered half the floor where chairs used to be. “Please sit.”

Tony awkwardly sat down on the pillows, less than a foot away from Stephen. “Didn’t there used to be chairs in here?”

“Yes. Did you think about what I said yesterday?”

Tony nodded, nervous. “Yes. Kind of kept me up all night. It’s fine,” he said when he saw the look on Stephen’s face. “Just . . . a lot.”

“And?” Stephen asked, moving closer. “What did you decide?”

Tony started to say something, but stopped. Instead, he raised a hand, setting it on Stephen’s cheek. The prince leaned in, covering the hand with his own and watching Tony with pale eyes. He breathed. “Tony.”

This kiss was softer than the one from the night before — a slow, sensual meeting of lips. Stephen’s hand slid down Tony’s neck, coming to rest on his chest as Stephen pulled him closer. They sunk back into the pillows, Tony pressing down on Stephen almost insistently.

Tony moaned Stephen’s name, moving to nip at the place where his neck connected to his jaw. “Perfect,” he murmured, returning to the prince’s mouth.

The last thing Stephen wanted was to end the kiss, but he knew what he meant to do. “Tony,” he said, grabbing the king’s shoulders. “Tony, what about Steve?”

Tony stilled, almost statuesque in his lack of breath and movement. “What about Steve?”

Stephen sat up some, looking at the king with an almost hurt expression. “I don’t know what I’ve done that you think so poorly of me that you would have just have your way and then go right back to him.”

Tony jerked away like he’d been burnt. “I wouldn’t do that. Why would you even think—”

“How can I think anything else?” Stephen demanded angrily. “You say you don’t want him around, yet here he is.” He didn’t have to fake his hurt expression. “How am I supposed to feel knowing he's here when all I want is to be with you?”

“I . . . I didn’t mean to . . .”

“Well, you _did_. You treat me like your whore when I want to be your lover. I can’t do that if he’s here.”

“Stephen . . .” Tony pulled one of the prince’s hands towards him, kissing the palm. “What do you want me to do?”

Stephen pulled his hand away, playing his ‘offended’ card. “I don’t want to have to compete with Steve Rogers for your affection! I don’t want to compete with _anyone_ for you!” He turned away from Tony. “I don’t understand how you can choose someone who betrayed you over someone who wants nothing more than to make you happy.” _Well, that and take back my country. But damn it, I can do both!_

Tony stared at him. “How do you know about that?”

Stephen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “People _talk_ , Anthony. Like how they're probably talking about what an idiot I am for thinking you actually _cared_ about me.”

They sat in frustration for a minute, neither knowing what to do. Then Stephen sighed, giving the appearance of calming down. “Maybe we should . . . table this discussion. Clear our heads.”

Tony nodded, looking relieved. “Yes, you’re . . . you’re probably right. Talk to you tomorrow?”

Stephen nodded shortly. “Tomorrow.”

Tony hesitated before leaning forward, gripping Stephen’s shoulder and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He stood and went to the door, bowing his head in goodbye. “My prince.”

* * *

“What are you thinking about, Tones?”

Tony looked up at his friend, quickly returning his gaze to the chessboard. “Nothing, James.”

Rhodey arched his brows almost comically. “‘James’? Now I know something’s wrong.” He looked down at the game and moved his rook. “See? You’re slipping.”

Blinking, Tony realized that he was right — his king was in check. “I was thinking about the prince.” He hadn’t gone to sleep after eating with Stephen, his mind running around in circles, unable to calm down until he sought out Rhodey and asked him to play a game of chess with him. “It’s keeping me up.”

“Yeah, obviously. Did you think I didn’t notice? You invited me to play a game of fucking chess at two in the morning. Just spit out whatever it is you’re thinking about.”

Tony reluctantly moved a knight to protect the king. “I kissed Stephen.”

Rhodey didn’t even pretend to be surprised, taking Tony’s knight with a bishop. “And?”

Tony stared at him. “ _And?_ ”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

Tony sighed. “No.”

“You two haven’t been subtle,” Rhodey helpfully pointed out. “These days, he’s the only one you ever speak to, the only one you talk about. The entire court isn’t as blind as you, Tony.”

“Oh, great. Glad to know everyone else realized it before me.” He stubbornly took Rhodey’s bishop with his queen, well aware that it couldn’t save him.

Rhodey shrugged. “It’s not my fault you’re so oblivious. But what are you going to do about it?” Rook takes queen; the king was in check again.

“You win,” Tony muttered, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t know. I like Stephen, more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. But Steve . . .”

Rhodey considered his next words carefully. “Tony, I’m not gonna lie to you. I never have. Steve . . . you two aren’t happy together anymore. And Steve’s never really liked court, the politics of it. He’d probably be happier if he left.”

Tony stared at him.

“ . . . You know, eventually.”

Tony scoffed.

“But if you’re going to like someone, Stephen is a good choice. He’s smart, charming, handsome. And if the Stranges manage to get back their throne — and I’m sure they will — then they could be a very powerful ally. They’re the only ones on the continent who can practice magic on the scale they do. They usually prefer to keep to themselves, but if the prince—”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t care about any of that.”

“You _should_ ,” Rhodey insisted. “But fine. Don’t do it for the politics. But if you like Strange, there’s nothing stopping you.

They sat in silence for a moment before Tony said, “Thank you, Rhodey. I think I know what I want to do now.”

“Good. I wanted to go to sleep an hour ago.” He immediately rose and walked to the door. “Night, Tony. Don’t wake me up before breakfast.”

* * *

“But why bother getting rid of Rogers in the first place?” Mordo asked, frustrated. “It doesn’t matter if the king has him as long as he’s still willing to give you what we want.” Stephen knew that as far as his friend was concerned, his actions were only keeping them there longer. He also knew that it was worth the wait.

“I want to be rid of Rogers entirely. Nothing less will do.” He was surprised by how much he'd grown to hate Steve Rogers — for betraying Tony's trust, for having hurt someone who deserved to never be hurt, for having what he do desperately wants, even if only in name.

But it was easy to acknowledge that he hated the man — what was harder was the reason why. “He’s a risk to my position. As long as he’s here, Tony could always decide that he’d rather have him than me. Do you not see how that’s dangerous to us?”

Wong snorted. “I can see how it’s dangerous to _you_ , love-sick idiot that you are.”

“Never call me that again.”

Mordo laughed, one of the only times since they were in the palace. _Traitor._ “Well, now we know what kind of man Stephen likes.”

Stephen looked at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mordo blinked, taken aback. “Nothing, Stephen. Only that—”

“That the king is very dear to me, and has been nothing but kind to us? Taking us in, offering his protection, feeding and clothing us?”

Mordo stared at him. Even Wong seemed surprised. “My prince, I did not mean to offend you.”

It took a moment, but Stephen calmed, his shoulders dropping as he looked at his friend with shame. “No, no. I should not be so . . . sensitive. It’s only that everything has been so stressful, and I don’t know what to think. Sometimes I worry that the king will reject me. And, if I am honest, it is not only for my family’s sake that I worry this.” He sank to his knees in front of Mordo, looking up at him. “Forgive me?”

Mordo smiled — one of the few genuine ones Stephen had seen in weeks. “Of course I do. Now stand up. It does not befit a prince to kneel before his subjects.”

Stephen chuckled. “Thank you. And please, never hesitate to tell me if I’m out of line.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t.”

Stephen was about to report when someone knocked, immediately followed by the door opening. His eyes softened when he saw the king. “Anthony.”

Wong and Mordo half-bowed — they were starting to drop some of the formality from their interactions with him — but Tony barely noticed. “Stephen, will you come and speak with me? Please?”

Stephen noted the king’s nervous tone, nodding slightly. “Of course.” He took his cloak with him, since it was cool outside, and the vivid red suited Tony’s colors well.

They went outside. It was nearly sunset now, and the sky was getting ready to darken. “Why outside?” Stephen asked, speaking cautiously.

“I like to walk. It clears my mind, allows me to let out some of this . . . this nervous energy. And besides, you never know when someone’s listening to something they shouldn’t hear when you’re surrounded by walls.

They made it to the Metal Gardens, even the same spot that they had spoken such a short time ago. Stephen was still wearing the red-and-gold crown. “Is here good?”

Tony let out a harsh laugh. “Here is perfect.”

Stephen was starting to worry. “My king, are you alright? You seem . . . different.”

Tony shook his head. “Tired. And anxious. And I’ve been thinking a lot. But no, I’m alright.”

Stephen watched him carefully. “If you insist.”

“I do. But that’s not what we came here to talk about.” He took Stephen’s hands in his, holding them up. “I thought for a long time about what you said before. And about other things, things that I did not want to consider. But now that I have, I think I’ve made the right choice.”

Stephen resisted the urge to gulp. “And what choice is that?”

Tony stared at him with onyx-dark eyes. Without speaking, he pulled Stephen into a kiss, holding him by the back of his head.

Stephen returned the kiss eagerly, wrapping Tony up in his arms, covering him with the cloak. He lost himself in the kiss, as though nothing existed for him and Tony, and Kaecilius and Donna and his companions and the Magicklands all fell away.

It took a few minutes, but Tony broke the kiss, breathing hard. “I don't know what I'm going to do about Steve yet,” he admitted. “I've known him for so long, loved him for so long, the idea of just sending him away . . . it almost hurts. But I want you to know that I’m choosing you. Right here, right now. Just you.”

It hurt more than Stephen would ever admit, to listen to Tony’s feelings for Rogers, regardless of how he felt now. But he ignored that in favor of kissing Tony again, allowing the feeling of being one with Tony overtake him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this chapter is short, and late. But have you considered: I am small and tired?
> 
> Update: I thought about it, and I've decided to take a few weeks off from updating this fic while I focus on school and the Kinktober prompts I tricked myself into doing. I'll probably return to this around the beginning of November. Sorry, guys.


	5. Chapter 5

For a few weeks, they existed in a strange, purgatorial state. Steve still lived in the palace, though he rarely left his quarters. Pepper seemed at most mildly amused by Stephen and Tony’s newfound relationship. But Mordo and even Wong were growing antsy. They wanted him to hurry up and move against Steve, to ask Tony for help with the situation back home, but Stephen was wary of moving too quickly and making Tony think that he was only using him. Which was not an unfair assessment in the beginning, but Stephen thought it might break his heart if Tony ever left him.

Even if he’d had more time, Stephen did not think he would be ready to speak to Tony about it. Not when Steve still lived in the palace. With him there, it felt too tentative. Fragile. Like a beautiful statue made of spun-glass.

He was thinking about it while he searched for Tony. There was a holiday coming up celebrating the end of a war that had been fought hundreds of years ago now. Tony had offered to teach him more about it so that he would be prepared, but now he had no idea where he was—

“What are you doing here?”

Stephen turned around, startled to find himself facing Steve Rogers.

He hadn’t realized he’d wondered into the area connecting Steve and Tony’s rooms, lost in thought as he was. “My apologies, Steve,” Stephen said, aware that he was being overly familiar and relishing it. “I was just looking for Tony—”

“Here?” Steve demanded in a clipped tone. His back was rigid, jaw clenched and arms crossed. There were circles under his eyes.

Stephen sighed longsufferingly. “Well it wouldn’t be my first choice, but he does enjoy spending his time with people of a lower . . .” He smiled, mouth thin. “Well, you know. Have you seen him?”

“No.”

“Pity. I’ll go then.”

He was almost out the door when Steve asked, “What’s that?”

Stephen turned back to him. Steve was staring at his wrist, nose scrunched in disgust.

“Nothing,” Stephen said, moving his arm behind his back in a way that only drew attention to it.

Still, he was shocked when Steve pulled his arm out, barely keeping himself from cutting his hand off with a portal.

Steve pushed his sleeve back, exposing the watch Stephen was wearing. Tony had made it himself, using the same colors and materials as the Metal Gardens. It showed not only the time, but also the date and the movement of the planets. Already, it was one of his most treasured possession.

Steve stilled. “I assume this is from the king?”

“It is.”

Steve continued to stare at the watch. He was gripping Stephen's wrist so tightly that his knuckles were white. “You’re a very expensive whore, then.”

Stephen wrenched his hand back, fingers sparking. “I am no one's _whore_ , Rogers.”

"I did not give you permission to speak."

Stephen stared at him, the corner of his mouth lifting up with a sort of petty amusement. “With all due respect, I am a prince and favored by King Anthony, and you're only a jumped-up commoner. Quite frankly, I don't _need_ your permission.”

Steve’s eyes were wide. He was almost shaking with anger. "Get. _Out_."

Stephen smirked, bowing low. “Your grace.” He left with Steve's eyes trained on his back, and couldn't help a smirk.

* * *

“Tony,” Pepper began, cornering her husband in their room, “this has to stop.”

“Hm?” Tony was sitting at his desk, pouring over the letters and petitions that arrived on his desk daily. “Are you talking about the argument between Pym and Hammer? Because I was told that was handled—”

“Not that, Tony.” Pepper set her hand on top of the letter he was reading, drawing his attention to her. “This . . . pissing fight between Steve and Stephen has to come to an end.”

“Pepper,” Tony started.

“ _No_ , Tony. It’s all anyone is talking about. Rumors are flying, Stephen’s reputation is being torn to shreds, and so is our family’s. How do you think it reflects on us when your . . .”

Tony raised a brow.

“. . . _consorts_ are fighting over you like wild dogs over roadkill?”

Tony waited, staring at her. “Am I supposed to answer that? Bad. Very, very bad.”

Pepper shook her head, a hand to her temple. “Tony, I’m going to visit Hope for a few weeks with Peter and Harley, and when we return, I expect this to be settled. No more rumors, no more fighting, no more indecision. Understand?”

A beat passed before Tony sighed. “Yes. I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you.” Pepper pressed a slight kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to leave tomorrow. Can I expect you to see me off?”

Tony shook his head. “I promised Stepen we’d go riding then. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just make sure you say goodbye to the boys before then.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Pepper left, still having preparations to make before she left the next day. Tony sat staring blankly at his desk, wondering what he was going to do.

* * *

“Are you alright?” Stephen asked. They were riding through the woods near the palace — the same ones Stephen had come through when they’d run from the Magicklands. They looked different now with the sun bearing down on them, light piercing through the heavy leaves.

“What?” Tony asked, snapping out of his daze.

“You’re distracted.” Stephen was wearing a new riding outfit that Tony’d had made for him, brown pants with a blue shirt and coat that had the Stark family insignia on the lapels. It was all Tony could do not to stare at him and accidentally run his horse into a tree. “What are you thinking about, love?”

“Nothing. Trouble at court.”

“Rumors?”

Tony looked up at him, startled. “You know?”

“About the things they say about me? About you?”

Tony didn’t answer.

“Tony.” Stephen stopped his horse in its tracks and reached out to catch Tony’s arm. “I don’t care what people say about us. I’m used to rumors. Really, it will take more than that to run me off.”

“I know, I didn’t think . . . that you couldn’t handle it or anything. It’s only . . .”

Stephen watched him, leaning forward slightly. “Do you care?”

“No, but—”

“Honestly, what does it even matter what they think? You're their king, not the other way around.”

Tony considered it. “So you’re saying I should . . .”

“Let them grumble. This is the way it’s going to be.” There was something light and mischievous in his eyes. He seemed to have shed some of the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders, though every now and Tony would catch him looking off in the distance with an empty look.

Stephen drew the tips of his fingers over Tony’s hand. “You are a king. You are the last person who should bow to the whims of lesser men.” He pulled Tony’s hand to his mouth, holding Tony’s gaze as he presses a kiss to his fingers.

Tony drew his hand back, feeling almost relieved, his decision made. “Thank you.” They rode in silence for a few minutes, the horses moving at a slow walk, before Tony said suddenly. “I’d like for us to go to my house on the coast for a week or so. It’s only a few hours ride from here. There’s a staff already at the house, I can send for our stuff.”

Stephen looked at him, sensing something. “If you wish . . .”

“It was my mother’s once,” Tony continued, “and it’s . . . beautiful, and warm and quiet. Away from all the mess and people of court. And then when we return, Pepper will still be visiting Hope with Peter and Harley, so it will be just the two of us.” He looked at Stephen meaningfully. “No one else.”

It took a moment for Stephen to realize what Tony was saying. When he did, his face transformed into a smile. “Are you serious?”

Tony nodded, taking Stephen’s hand and holding it to his cheek, nuzzling into him. “I am.”

After a moment, Stephen grinned. “Alright. Let’s go away for a while, then.” He was beaming, looking as though he was about to drag Tony off his horse and into a kiss. “Together.”

* * *

While Stephen settled into the bedroom, Tony wrote a letter to Rhodey, who was in charge while he was gone. It took him over an hour as he struggled to make it clear what he wanted done. When it was finished, he gave the letter to the house’s steward. “I want this sent to the palace first thing in the morning, as soon as you can.”

“Would you not prefer if I have it done tonight, your majesty?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else riding in the dark.” A messenger had already been sent to alert them that Tony wouldn’t be back that day, and he worried about sending out any more people. “Besides, it’s not the sort of letter that’s best to receive at night.”

“Of course, my king.”

With that done, Tony made his way to the bedroom, sloughing off his riding coat. He was ready to drop into bed and go to sleep, but as soon as he opened the door, he saw Stephen.

“Tony,” Stephen said quietly. His dark hair was damp, presumably from a bath, and he was only wearing a dark robe that was loosely tied around his waist. One hand was wrapped around the bedpost. He let go of it, moving forward until he was standing in front of Tony.

They stood in front of each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Stephen almost jumped when it was Tony that reached out to him, rising up to kiss him. In seconds, they melted into the kiss, wrapping their arms around each other. When Stephen pulled away for breath, he bumped his nose gently against Tony’s, caressing his face. His voice is a whisper. “I want you.”

Blood hot and nerves alive, Tony pushed Stephen back to the bed, pulling off his boots as he stood above him. Stephen looked up at him with dark, half-lidded eyes, quickly relieving himself of the robe and throwing it to the floor.

Tony sucked in a breath, staring. “ _Stephen._ ”

The prince rose to his knees, ripping Tony’s tunic and shirt off, tearing the fabric. He didn’t care. The fabric fell away, ignored as Stephen pulled him back for a kiss, rough this time, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth. It’s not long before Tony’s pants are gone and Stephen takes his cock in hand. “Fuck me, Tony.”

Tony groaned, holding Stephen by the legs as he climbed up on the bed. “Give me a minute, I’ll get the—”

Stephen shook his head, moving Tony’s hand to his hole. “I already prepared myself for you.”

“Fuck, are you trying to kill me?” He pushed Stephen onto his back, holding his legs apart as he settles in between them.

“Well, if you’re going to die, don’t do it while you’re in the middle of . . . _me_.”

Tony chuckled, looking down at his lover fondly. Without thinking, he lifts a hand to Stephen’s face, rubbing the space under his eyes with his thumb. Stephen watched with something like hesitation as Tony drew his hands down his chest and stomach, caressing him. He presses a line of kisses down his neck to his abdomen before returning to the top, pressing their foreheads together. Almost unconsciously, Stephen puts a hand to Tony’s shoulder blade, holding him in place.

Tony lowered his head and kissed Stephen at the same time he presses into him. Stephen’s hand tightened its grip on his shoulder, goosebumps forming along his arms. The pressure wasn’t unusual, but it had been forever since he’d had anything other than his own fingers and by the time Tony was fully sheathed in him, he was keening, the breath knocked out of his chest. Then Tony was resting on top of him, the weight surprisingly pleasant, as he adjusts to the pressure.

It took them a minute, but then Stephen was urging him on, the light brushes of Tony’s cock against his prostate almost unbearable. “Please, Tony.”

Tony brushed light kisses over Stephen’s face and starts to move. He started careful, barely even moving, but then Stephen wove his fingers into Tony’s hair and whispered, “I love you.”

Tony moaned, full of love and _life_ , and then he’s gone, his face buried in the crook of Stephen’s neck as he started thrusting properly, angling and reangling his hips until Stephen was shouting with every movement, eyes screwed shut with pleasure. “My king,” Stephen moaned, pliant beneath him. “Keep going.”

Growling, Tony pushed Stephen’s legs up and started slamming into him, listening to Stephen’s moans of pleasure. It does not take long for his pleasure to build to its breaking point, and he starts to jerk Stephen off in time to his thrusts, slicking his hand with the precome beading at the head of his cock. “Come for me, Stephen.”

Eyes blown, head thrown back, Stephen does, spurting his release over his stomach as he screams out loud, his walls tightening around Tony’s cock. It’s not long before Tony follows, milked by Stephen’s body, and he falls on top of him, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. Stephen held him, drawing his fingers through his thick hair. He kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

Tony burrowed closer into him. “I love you too.”

* * *

Rhodey stared at the letter. He’d expected it, _encouraged_ it, but hadn’t realized it would be so hard to see it laid out in front of him.

“It is from the king?” the castellan asked.

Rhodey nodded. “It’s his handwriting.” Nothing to be done for it. “See that his orders are carried out. I’m going to speak to Steve. I’ll thank you not to interrupt us.”

He took his time walking to Steve’s rooms until he realized he was putting it off. Even then, it took him a minute to work up the strength to knock on the door.

“Come in.” Steve’s voice was low. When Rhodey walked in, he saw that the other man was sitting in a chair in front of the window, back straight and eyes unblinking. “Is Tony back?”

Rhodey shook his head, though he knew Steve couldn’t see him. “No, that’s not it. He did send a message, though.”

“What did he say?”

“A lot of things.”

“About me?”

“Some of it, yes.”

Steve seemed to deflate for a moment before regaining his strength. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

It took a moment for him to respond. “I thought you deserved to hear it from someone you knew.”

“That’s kind of you.” A beat. “Is he going to say goodbye?”

“I don’t think so.” Which was a nice way of saying _no, in fact he expects you to be gone before he even gets back._ “There’s a house for you. And horses, clothes, money, servants. Everything you need.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t need any of that. Tell him to give it to someone else.”

“What will you do?” Rhodey wouldn’t say Steve was his friend, but he hardly wanted to see the man turned out on the streets.

Steve didn’t look away from the window. “I think I’ll go south. See some old friends.”

Rhodey knew who he was talking about. He didn’t voice it. “Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, James. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Rhodey started to leave, but stopped. “Goodbye, Steve.” He shut the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's baaaaack.
> 
> Gonna try to update every weekend again, but I guess we'll see how long that lasts.


	6. Chapter 6

When Tony woke up, he felt like he was floating. For the past few days, he had been almost euphoric with the change in his and Stephen's relationship. The prince was more attentive than ever, rarely leaving Tony's side, lavishing him with affection even on the occasion that a servant or messenger was in the room.

He wasn't concerned that Stephen wasn't there when he woke up. The prince was an early riser, and liked to make sure that breakfast was ready for them, followed by a warm bath. But when he went to the dining room, Stephen wasn't there.

“Excuse me,” he said to a servant who was setting the table, “have you seen Stephen this morning?”

“I'm sorry, your majesty, I haven't.”

Tony looked around distractedly. “Thank you. Carry on.” He wandered around the house for a bit before deciding to check outside.

The house sat near the Northern shore, and was less than a mile from the closest beaches. The horses were still in the stable, but after searching the small property, Tony decided to check the Silvershore beach anyway. It was only a few minutes ride by horse. “Stephen?” He was certain the man was there. He could feel it — a growing sense of power and magic, imperceptible once you grew used to it, but almost overwhelming like this. “Stephen!”

“Anthony?”

Tony slid off the horse, walking towards Stephen’s voice. “Are you alright?” The prince’s voice sounded shaky. When he found him, slumped down in the sand, he was immediately worried. Kneeling beside him, Tony laid a hand on Stephen's shoulder. “What's wrong?”

Stephen looked up. His eyes were red and splotchy. When he spoke, his voice had the quality of someone trying to hold back a sob so they could talk. “I'm sorry, my king, I . . . I meant to return before you woke . . .I”

“Stephen, my only concern is for you. What's wrong? What happened?”

Stephen sucked in several breaths, unable to speak for a minute. “I didn't want you to see me like this, but I just . . . I can't stop thinking about my sister.”

“Donna?”

Stephen nodded, unable to contain another sob. “Donna was always there for me. I don't know what I'd be without her.” His face was one of despair. “And the Vishanti alone know what's become of my people, if Kaecilius is destroying villages or killing any who dare to speak out against him.” After that, he was unable to speak, burying his face in his arms as he cried uncontrollably, all of the pain and stress of the past months bursting through.

Tony lowered himself to the sand, pulling Stephen to him. The prince fell against him, burying his head in Tony's chest without a thought. That's when Tony knew his course.

“I’m going to fix this,” Tony promised. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Stephen didn’t say anything. Tony didn’t mind.

They stayed there for a long time until Stephen calmed down. When they made it back to the house, Stephen was so exhausted that he passed out in the bedroom. Tony made sure he was covered before summoning the steward. Before he could ask, Tony said, “Have everything packed and send a messenger to the palace. I want the council gathered within the next three days. Tell Rhodey to keep it under wraps as much as possible. A lot of important stuff is going to happen in the next week.”

* * *

“Tony, what’s going on?”

Rhodey had cornered him right before the council meeting. No one knew what the king was planning, not even his closest advisers.

“You’re about to find out,” Tony assured him, smiling slyly.

“That is the single most _un-_ reassuring thing you’ve ever said.”

“You wound me, Rhodey. Relax. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Every word you say makes it worse.”

“I think it’s time to go to the council room.”

“I’m so scared.”

Ignoring him, Tony made his way to the council room. It was one of the more understated parts of the palace that Tony visited regularly, the only decoration being a tapestry showing the Stark family tree going back dozens of generations. It was so convoluted that a person could drive themselves insane trying to read it.

Tony sat down at the head of the table. Pepper was on his left, seeming incredibly annoyed at having to return from her trip early. Next to her was Peter, eagerly waiting for his father to start. He was only just starting to attend meetings like this in preparation for the day he needed to lead.

Usually Rhodey was on Tony’s right, but Stephen was sitting there now, waiting for Tony with a mildly curious expression. Even he hadn’t been told what he was planning, although he had an idea.

Rhodey looked at Stephen for a moment before taking the seat beside him.

Everyone else, all of the governors who could be made to come on such short notice, were already present and ready to listen to their king. Tony checked to make sure they were paying attention before speaking. “I assume none of you know why I’ve called you here?”

They all shook their heads, except for Stephen, who smiled, and Rhodey, who was gearing himself for the worst.

“What do you know of the situation in the Magicklands?”

Several people were unable to keep themselves from looking at Stephen. Hope van Dyne, who’d arrived with Pepper, didn’t, though she did speak. “Kaecilius and his zealots have stolen the throne and imprisoned the majority of the royal family, except for a key few who managed to escape. But other than that . . . well, no one knows what happened after the initial incident.” She couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Stephen. “Kaecilius has kept a tight lid on whatever’s happening over there.”

Tony nodded. Stephen had told him, after some prompting, that Kaecilius had somehow managed to complete several dark rituals that granted him power from an otherworldly being — Dormammu. _“It’s the only way he could have done it,” Stephen explained. “Kaecilius is experienced, but when it comes to sheer power, everyone in my family is far above him, not to mention his little zealots.” He shrugged. “We’ve always been strong. It’s how we came to power. But if he sought help from Dormammu, we wouldn’t be able to fight him. Otherwise, Donna or I could have stopped him the moment he tried something.”_

“Kaecilius is powerful,” Tony said. “But his power is spread thin. He’s doing too much at once, fighting anyone who tries to take him one-on-one, keeping his enemies out, and preventing news and messages from being spread. And he doesn’t have many followers.”

“And he’s been doing it for months now,” Stephen pointed out. A few people seemed askance of him speaking out of turn, but no one said anything, least of all Tony. “Whatever his source of power is, he must be exhausting it by now.”

Tony nodded. “Exactly. He’s weakening. He can’t hold his position forever. A single strong, unexpected blow will shatter him.”

“Anthony,” Pepper started, more formal than usual for the benefit of their guests, “are you suggesting that we launch an attack against the Magicklands?”

“Not the Magicklands. Just Kaecilius. He is a murderer and usurper. He’s dangerous to everyone as long as he’s in charge. How long until he starts eyeing the Ironlands?” He paused to let the situation sink in. “And if we wait, then someone else could decide to get rid of him, and we’ll lose a valuable opportunity to make the Stranges our friends.” He pointedly does not look at Stephen.

One of the governors who Tony couldn’t remember the name of leaned forward. “My king, may I say something?”

Tony nodded his approval.

“Even if we were to fight Kaecilius . . . well, how would we do it? They’re sorcerers. Would we even be able to kill them?”

Stephen’s mouth twitched, trying to form a smile. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Tony thought he was close to laughing. The sorcerers were secretive people, holding their power and their magic close. Few outsiders were ever trusted with their knowledge. The lack of information was part of what allowed them to flourish for so long, going so far as to convince many people that they were invincible, or at least that fighting them was pointless.

“They have magic, yes, but they _are_ mortal,” Tony explained, then shrugged. “Most of them at least. If you injure one, and they're unable to get to a healer or fix themselves, then they will die the same as any other man. In a fight, the best plan is to move fast, catch them off guard, and try to get a lethal or disabling strike on the first try.”

Pepper was watching him closely, never letting her emotions show on her face. “You’re certain of this.”

“I am.” He held Pepper’s gaze before turning back to the room. “But I always try to be fair. We’ll put it to a vote. All in favor of fighting Kaecilius, raise your hand.”

Peter, Rhodey, and a little less than half of the governors raised their hands. Hope chose not to, which didn’t surprise Tony. She had always been a cautious person. Stephen didn’t have an official position on the council and was an outsider to boot, so he didn’t get a vote. It was left to Pepper.

The queen stared at Tony for a long time, unblinking. Tony returned her gaze, undaunted. He knew that his course was right. He would not back down now.

Never looking away from him, Pepper raised her hand.


	7. Chapter 7

“Kaecilius has a group of zealots posted at every fifty miles of the border. We believe that he’s barricaded himself in the palace of Kamar-Taj with his hostages. Expect fights to get bloodier the farther in we go.” Stephen stood over a detailed map of the Magicklands. It was his own copy, and he'd put a glamour over some places that were considered secret, though it was still far more detailed than any found elsewhere. “I'll expect our main problems will be here, here, and here—” he placed a block carved in the shape of Dormammu's mark over each place. “These people are powerful, though none so much as Kaecilius himself. Don't risk hand-to-hand combat. Use your weapons to strike hard and fast, then leave the rest to myself and my followers. The longer we are in the Magicklands, the more allies I will be able to gather around us.” He drew a finger around the southernmost stronghold. “There are less people and artifacts here, few truly loyal families, and it is difficult to reach by the paths available to us. I imagine it will be less strongly held than the others. We can start there and work our way North.”

Littered around the War Room were  Tony's generals and ministers. Tony nodded along to what he said, paying close attention to the map. “What sort of weapons do you need?”

“Mostly long-range. It will be harder for them to fight and cast spells against you if they can't see you. Explosions will do nicely, though I would like them to be contained so as to avoid casualties.”

“I'll have them ready within a week.”

“Thank you. Wong, Mordo, and I will use spells and charms to add protection to them and any armor you wish.”

“How long will that take?” Rhodey asked. As Tony's third-in-command after Pepper, he would be leading one arm of the attack. Pepper herself would remain behind to guard the Ironlands and prevent Kaecilius from gaining a foothold there.

Once Stephen was done, Tony said, “You all know what you have to do. Get to work, I want everyone ready to go within a month, no later.”

Soon, Stephen and Tony were alone in the room. Stephen wasted no time in coming up behind Tony and wrapping his arms around his chest, kissing his neck. “Thank you for doing this,” Stephen said quietly. “I don't know what I would do without you.”

Tony smiled, placing a hand over Stephen's and squeezing. “I love you.”

Stephen shut his eyes, unable to remember the last time he felt this . . . _Warm. That's the word._ “I love you too.”

* * *

Stephen waited in his tent with Wong and Mordo, waiting for their signal. He kept looking at the door, pale with nerves. It did not take long for Wong to snap at him, “Stop that. You're making us nervous.”

“I can't _help_ it,” Stephen said waspishly. He looked at the door again with a pained look. “What if he's hurt? I should be with him.”

“He's a king, Stephen,” Mordo said, more calm than the others from his meditation. “He has to fight with his men.”

“That doesn't mean I have to _like it_.” He tried to calm down, but quickly said, “I'm going to try to communicate with the Vishanti.”

Wong rolled his eyes. “The Vishanti protect _Earth_ , Stephen, not your lover.”

“Well he's _on Earth_ , isn't he?” Stephen turned away from them and sat as though to meditate, but before he could begin, they heard something — the quick, screeching noise of Tony's weapons.

Stephen shot up immediately, running to the door. Mordo went to stop him, but before either of them could do anything, a page ran in. Quickly bowing, she spoke: “My prince, it's time for you to move.”

Before she even finished speaking, Stephen had his sling ring on and was opening a portal. “Wong, Mordo, you know your positions.”

“Of course,” Mordo said, copying Stephen’s movements as Wong did the same.

Stephen took the main hub. The entire fortress in chaos, it took him little time to execute the dozen or so zealots he found there. It was so easy that he was almost sad to see the inexperienced sorcerers cut down.

 _No matter_ , he thought, searching for Tony. There was stuff he needed to do, decisions to make and messages to send, but none of that mattered until he found the king.

“Anthony?” He started to breathe in relief when he saw Tony, only to feel horror drench his skin like sleet when he saw the blood on his lover’s arm.

Immediately, Stephen was at his side, a hand cupping Tony’s cheek and drawing his eyes to him. “Tony, are you alright? What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Tony insisted, trying and failing to hide a wince. “Barely a scratch.”

“Your arm is broken,” the medic tending to him said.

“Besides that.”

Stephen stared at him before turning to the nearest soldier. “Find Mordo. Tell him that _I_ said to help you find the nearest magic healer and to return with them _immediately_.” They nodded before running off. Stephen stayed dutifully by Tony’s side while the medic finished putting his arm in a splint. “Don’t obstruct it too much. The healer will need a clear view.”

“Stephen, that’s not necessary—”

“Tony, _everything_ that makes you feel better is necessary. Now shut up and rest for a moment, alright? We both know you haven’t slept in over a day.”

“Like you’re any better,” Tony muttered, but he did as Stephen said, allowing the prince, Rhodey, and Wong to handle everything else. He was almost asleep by Mordo arrived with a healer.

As soon as she realized who he was, the healer fell to his knees. “My prince, thank the Vishanti that you are returned to us.”

Stephen couldn’t help a relieved smile. “If you must thank someone, then you can thank King Anthony of the Ironlands — and you can do it by helping his arm.”

Though Tony grumbled, Stephen could tell he was relieved when the pain was gone and his arm was okay.

Once that was dealt with, Mordo approached them. “My prince, we have a prisoner if you would like to speak to them.”

“I will,” Stephen said, rising. He stopped Tony from following with a gentle shake of the head. “You get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“So have you.”

Stephen smiled. “I know. And I’ll join you soon. But for now, go and lay down.” Before Tony could argue, he added, “Please? For me?”

A beat passed before Tony sighed and nodded. “Fine. But you better hurry. The bed feels empty without you.”

“I’ll try my best.” He left Tony with a gentle kiss on the cheek and followed Mordo. “Do you know anything about the prisoner?”

“That they were the liaison to Kaecilius, the one who kept him updated on any activity, and that they did not manage to send him a message before being captured.”

“Then we can rest knowing we still have the element of surprise.”

“We’ll see how long we can keep it.”

Wong was already there once they arrived, sing mental magic to force their prisoner to speak only the truth while he questioned them. For the sake of appearances, he bowed slightly when Stephen walked in. “I’ve already questioned this one and recorded his answers. I believe we’ve learned everything of importance.”

“Excellent.” Stephen focused on the prisoner. They were unremarkable in appearance and, he suspected, power. Kaecilius must have thought he would strike elsewhere first.

Stephen knelt down in front of the prisoner until they were face to face. His eyes glowed green and silver. “You are going to write a message to Kaecilius at the time he expects one from you. You will tell him nothing more or less than what you normally would. He is to be given no indication of our work here. Do you understand?”

The prisoner nodded against their will.

“Good.” He looked to Mordo. “I want two guards on the prisoner, and _at least_ eight outside. As soon as they’re posted, get some rest. We’ve all had a long day.”

Stephen affectionately hugged his friend before leaving and joining Tony in their tent. His lover was laying in bed with a blanket pulled around him, only a few candles lit. Stephen blew all but one out, setting the final candle by their bed before joining Tony.

Tony smiled, pulling him close. “How are you feeling?”

Stephen nuzzled into Tony’s neck, allowing his body to relax. “Good. None of our people were too badly hurt, and we have no reason to believe that Kaecilius will learn of our presence until too late.” He sighed. “It’s nice to be back.” The Magicklands were cooler than the Ironlands, more forested and sparsely populated. Though he’d grown to like the Ironlands, he could not deny that he’d missed his home and people. “When we return home, I think I would like to celebrate a holiday we have here.”

“Hm?”

Stephen nodded. “It’s a day-long ceremony where the royal family must cook food themselves to give to the poorest of their people, as well hand out clothes and money.”

“I don't think we have anything like that in the Ironlands.” Tony muttered. “It’s a good idea.”

Stephen smiled, lightly kissing Tony’s neck and entangling their legs together. “I love you.”

Tony held him tighter.

* * *

Stephen couldn’t help the breath he let out as he stepped into the palace of Kamar-Taj for the first time in months. There were surface-level changes — blood on the stone from the battle, workers hurrying through the halls going to and from rooms carrying messages and weapons, people pulling down the banners and tapestries that Kaecilius had hung — but underneath it all, it was the same. Same buildings, same orange-brown stone, same people, same memories.

People were speaking to him, asking questions and advice, but he silenced them with a single demand. “Where is my sister?”

They were silent for a moment, surprised by the stony tone of his voice, before someone said, “She’s in the gardens, your majesty. She said she wanted to see them again.”

Stephen nodded, turning in the direction he knew lead to the gardens before taking off with a short order to defer to Wong or Mordo until he returned. Of course Donna would want to be in the gardens. She’d been locked up in a stone room for months on end. She would want to see the sun and flowers, the trees and fountains, need to feel the wind and warmth.

It did not take long to find Donna once he was outside. She was sitting in the middle of the red gura flowers, holding one to her face, breathing in its scent and brushing the petals against her cheek.

Stephen stared at his sister. “Donna.” His voice was so low that he thought she wouldn’t hear him.

But of course she did, her eyes snapping to him immediately.

Before he could say anything, Donna leapt up and ran to him, pulling him into a hug. He realized she was crying. “ _Stephen._ ” Her arms wrapped around his neck as she buried her face into his tunic. “Stephen, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Stephen hugged his sister back, surprising himself by the tears that ran down his face. “Of course I’m here. You borrowed my favorite book. I had to get it back.”

Donna choked out a laugh. “It’s nice to see that you’re the same, little brother.”

“Fun, you mean?”

“Annoying.” But she didn’t stop hugging him.

It took a while for them to separate, Stephen turning around so he can brush the tears from his face. Donna, seeming to pull herself together, started to walk back to the palace as she asked, “How did you convince Anthony to help you?”

Stephen smiled, following her. “Oh. I was quite convincing. Let’s leave it at that.”

Donna looked at him questioningly, but did not voice her obvious concerns. “Well, at least you’re home now. We will host Anthony and his people as long as he wishes to remain — at least as long as it takes to arrange the executions for Kaecilius and his zealots — and we’ll have to have talks about his demands and expectations, and decide whether we even want them as an ally—”

“Donna,” Stephen interrupted. Sometimes he forgot that Donna was a queen, until she reminded him. “I’m glad that you’re returning to yourself. But you need to know that I can’t stay.”

Donna looked at him sharply, eyes wide. “What? Why not?” Her expression turned suspicious. “Is it the king? Has he threatened you? If he has, we need to work quickly, while he remains in Kamar-Taj—”

“It’s nothing like that,” Stephen assured her, unconcerned with his sister’s paranoia. It was an old trait of their family, and one that was not likely to go away any time soon. “But I do plan to return with him.”

Donna stared at him. “ _Why?_ ”

Stephen smiled. “Demanding, much? I just saved our kingdom. You might show a bit more gratitude.”

“Stephen. I am your queen and older sister. Tell me why you plan to leave our home immediately after saving it.”

They slowed in their walk, approaching the doors to the palace. Stephen could see Tony from here, speaking seriously to Rhodey and Wong before he spotted them. Instantly, his face transformed into a smile, and he waved lightly at them.

Stephen smiled back. “Because,” he said quietly to his sister, who was looking at Tony quizzically, “my home is with my love.”

Donna looked from Tony to Stephen before rolling her eyes. “You romantic idiot.”

Stephen couldn’t resist a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final official chapter, and we'll be finishing off with an epilogue.


	8. Epilogue

“Does anyone know who Stephen Strange was and why he was important?”

Peter wasn’t usually one to speak up in class, but this was something he actually knew about after watching a documentary about famous kings and their families in a previous class and then doing some research of his own out of curiosity. His hand shot up.

“He’s a famous prince from the Magicklands, but most people remember him because he was the advisor and . . . um . . .”

“Paramour?” his teacher suggested with a slight smile.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, to King Anthony the first. He did a lot of stuff that was important, like heading the alliance between the Ironlands and the Magicklands, and he brought a lot of the sorcerers’ traditions over here.”

“That’s true,” Ms. Smith said, clearly happy to have a student who already knew something about the subject. “Intelligent, powerful, and politics-savvy, Stephen Strange was a hugely influential figure even after Anthony I died. For three years afterwards, the prince served as an advisor to Peter Stark before his own death. Many of the things he did still affect us today. For example, over half of the people in the Ironlands worship the Vishanti, but we were a largely secular nation before Stephen Strange brought his religion to the royal court. Few _actual_ rulers have been so influential in the shaping of our history. He did so much that even incredibly important things such as his role in suppressing the rebellion against his family, are easy to overlook when faced with all of it.”

The teacher continued to drone on about various rulers and how their actions still affected people to this day, but this time Peter found it easy to listen and take notes. He was shocked when the bell rang and school ended. Students lifted their already-packed bags enthusiastically, leaving the classroom as quickly as they could while their teacher sighed. Peter reacted at a much slower pace, shoving stuff into his backpack before following them.

Outside, his dad’s car was waiting to pick him up. He slipped into the back.

“Hey Pete,” Tony said, lowering his red-tinted sunglasses to look back at his son. “How was school?”

“Honestly, Tony,” Stephen drawled, looking at his husband, “at least give him a moment to relax.”

“It was cool,” Peter said, not really in the mood to listen to their well-natured bickering. “We learned about Stephen Strange in my historical figures class.”

Stephen turned his head in surprise. “Oh?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. It was actually really interesting. Have you ever heard about him?”

“Of course I have. He’s my namesake. I couldn’t _stop_ hearing about him when I was a kid. What did you think about him?”

Peter considered. “Do you think he really loved the king?” It was something that had been on his mind while his teacher talked about when he first came to the Ironlands. “I mean, a lot of people think he just used him for his power. And Anthony had a . . . paramour, I guess, before him that the prince kind of just . . . replaced. I don’t know. How do you think he felt?”

Stephen snorted. “Depends on which book you read.”

“Or which movie you watch,” Tony added.

“Tony, you uncultured swine.”

“If I'm a pig, then you’re into bestiality, and that’s disgusting.”

Peter ignored his dads’ back-and-forth. “I think he loved him.”

The car was quiet for a moment before Tony said, “You know what?” he smiled at his husband. “I think so, too.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Tony, I didn't realize you were such a romantic.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm gonna romance the fuck out of you after we drop Peter off at May's.”

“Ugh, dad, can you not say stuff like that in front of me?”

“You had your eyes glued to your phone, I didn't think you were paying attention.”

“That's not true.”

“I'm an adult, I don't have to tell the truth.”

They talked some more before making it to May’s house. “Bye, Peter,” Tony said as they dropped him off. “Say hi to your aunt for me.”

“I will,” Peter promised. “Bye dad! Bye other dad!”

Stephen waved affectionately at their son while Tony pulled out of the driveway. Then they were back on the road, far out of Peter’s earshot. It was only once they were out of sight of the house that Stephen turned to Tony and said, “Do you think we should tell him?”

Tony thought about it before shaking his head. “Nah. He doesn’t need to have that weighing on him. Besides,” he took one hand off the wheel to twine Stephen’s fingers with his own, “it doesn’t really matter how we ended up back together, does it? Just that we’re here, right?”

Stephen smiled and lifted Tony’s hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. His bracelet, made of twisted gold that formed stems and roses, slid down his wrist. “Of course, my king.”

**Author's Note:**

> So the schedule is probably gonna be kind of crazy for this one because I'm going to college now, but I will TRY to update about once a week or so.
> 
> Find me @incorrect-ironstrange on tumblr


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